The Sonnets
by Shalan the Magnificent
Summary: Oneshot Collection. Fluff. He had always known she loved poetry, what he hadn't known was that poetry wasn't the only thing she loved. BreakShalon
1. Sonnets 46 & 47

**Title: **The Sonnets

**Summary:** Oneshot. Fluff. He had always known she loved poetry, what he hadn't know was that poetry wasn't the only thing she loved. BreakShalon

**Author's Note:** I've been a Pandora Heart's fan for quite some time and my friends have always asked me to write a fanfiction so here it is, it's a oneshot, but if you want I can make it into a fluff fest and I'll just post fluffy oneshots of Break and Shalon. If I did that I'd try to make each chapter a different sonnet or two, even if they're not woven through them like this but instead just acting out the sonnet. I'd like to get through all of his sonnets.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Pandora Hearts or any of the sonnets contained here.

_**Sonnet 46 & 47**_

The rain pounded against the large windows, rattling the plate glass in its braces. She lifted her eyes to the window across from her curiously as a low rumble picked up in the distance.

She turned back to her book, turning the page, listening to the sound of the thick cotton paper brush against the other sheets. She enjoyed the feel of her fingers against the soft blend, the wonderful script of the story sprawled against the off-white paper. She shifted her weight against the roman couch she was sitting on, pulling her dressing down up over her feet. The fire crackled in the hearth nearby, flickering in time with the lamp on the table next to her. The door opened and shut, she didn't look up.

"I thought I would find you here, milady." His voice breached her half-conscious state, he loved her when she was like this, she would get into a book and the only thing she could hear or see was the book. He walked over and sat down on the couch next to her as she scooted over.

"Xerxes," she smiled vaguely, dazed from reading.

"I think we need to look into getting you a set of reading glasses, my dear, you're reading awfully close to your face." She pulled his arm around her shoulders, making herself comfortable against his side. He kicked his shoes off and lifted his feet up and rested more comfortably on the couch.

"I think you're full of it," she replied, resting her head against his shoulder. "How are you?" She closed her book, finger marking her place, as she looked up at him.

"I'm fine, why wouldn't I be?" He blinked down at her. "Do you remember when I used to read to you when you were a little girl?"

"Of course I do." She smiled. "I used to love it when you'd tell me stories," Sharon put the book in his hands. "How about you read to me again?"

"Well you can read on your own now, milady, I don't have to read to you." He chuckled.

"I could read then, Xerxes." She reminded and he looked down at the book curiously, then looked over at her. Her long hair was down, free of its usual ponytail and her lavender eyes sparkled with earnest interest.

"Yes, alright, imbibe my vocal talents." He rested his cheek against her head, enjoying the feel of her silky hair against his face. The faintest scent of candy apple reached his senses and he let a soft smile spill onto his face, she had grown up to be quite the woman, but she had always used the same sweet scent. "I think perhaps you should start using a more adult perfume, milady." He observed.

"One more alluring perhaps?" She looked up at him and he looked down. "What if the one I want to allure doesn't enjoy the scents of roses and vanilla… perhaps his scent is more sweet and sugary?" She tilted her head.

"I can't imagine a man like that, but you have some time yet to find a suitor… besides, now is not the best time." He looked down at the book, opening it. "Shakespeare, milady? Not your usual type."

"I enjoy sonnets from time to time, don't act like I'm uncultured Break." She mocked offense. He smiled faintly.

"Sonnet 46." He read through it, then suddenly understood why she was reading them… they were romantic. He chuckled deep in the back of his throat and pulled her a little closer beneath his arm. "Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war. How to divide the conquest of thy sight;" His voice was smooth and steady to her ears as he read, one arm around her helping the other hand support the book. "Mine eye my heart thy picture's sight would bar, My heart mine eye the freedom of that right." She shifted, turning on her side to rest her head on his shoulder, her nose brushing his neck. He smiled again as one of her arms snuck over his chest.

"My heart doth plead that thou in him dost lie-- A closet never pierced with crystal eyes--" He continued, resting his cheek against her hair again. "But the defendant doth that plea deny, and says in him thy fair appearance lies." His heart skipped as she rested her palm against his chest, her arm resting on his abdomen.

"I can feel your heartbeat," she chuckled.

"I can feel yours." He replied. "To 'cide this title is impaneled, A quest of thoughts, all tenants to the heart," her heart thudded in her chest, she hoped he was lying about being able to feel it… it felt like it was going to burst, the way it did every time he was so close to her. "And by their verdict is determined, The clear eye's moiety and the dear heart's part:" he almost couldn't read the last lines, his heart clenched on itself. "As thus; mine eye's due is thy outward part, And my heart's right thy inward love of heart." She closed her eyes, she was warm and safe and tucked away under Break's arm, that was all that mattered, her knight was there to keep her safe.

"Are you falling asleep, milady?" He looked down at her.

"Hmm… perhaps, keep reading though," she buried her face in his neck and a smiled pulled at his lips once more.

"Sonnet 47."

"This my favorite." She replied, dozing slightly. For as long as she had known him she had never quite understood him… but maybe that's what kept them together, the idea that someday she would understand everything about him.

"Betwixt mine eye and heart a league is took, And each doth good turns now unto the other:" he held the book in one hand and pulled several strands of her hair back from her face. "When that mine eye is famish'd for a look," he looked at her out of the corner of his eye as her hand gripped his shirt lazily. "Or heart in love with sighs himself doth smother, With my love's picture then my eye doth feast," he could feel his body growing heavy, sleep began to take over slightly and he yawned. "And to the painted banquet bids my heart; Another time mine eye is my heart's guest."

"Are you falling asleep, Xerxes?" She asked as her breath washed over his neck. He felt his heart stop again, she was most lovely when she was like this, natural and open. "Your heart skipped a beat," she muttered, lifting her head slightly as he brushed her hair back from her face again.

"And in his thoughts of love doth share a part:" the book hit the floor as he caught her face in his hands and caught her lips with his. Time seemed to stop for her, the rain was gone, the fire had died, the lamp was out. The only thing that mattered was the feeling rushing through her veins and her heart pounding in her chest.

She lifted her hands curiously as he released her lips, for only a second, before she leaned up, returning it. Her delicate fingers brushed his skin, sliding behind his neck and into the silky soft hair on his head.

_So, either by thy picture or my love, _

_Thyself away art present still with me;_

He pulled away, regaining his senses, "L-Lady Shalon I—I am out of l--" he broke off when he saw the look on her face, the delicate flush that had risen in her cheeks and along her collarbone and neck.

_For thou not farther than my thoughts canst move,_

"I've never felt like this before," she placed her hand against his chest. "Xerxes… is this lo--" he placed a finger to her lips, shaking his head.

"No, I promise you… no one would fall for me," her eyes searched his.

_And I am still with them and they with thee;_

"I don't care what you think, you know that right?" He chuckled as she spoke.

"Yes I do know that." He nodded. "You'll do whatever you want won't you?" His eye darkened as her lips neared his again.

_Or, if they sleep, thy picture in my sight_

She placed a hand against the side of his face, kissing him. It was the shy lamb kiss of someone as innocent as she, the kiss of someone testing the waters. He never could have chosen a better time for her to try her wings. He wrapped his arms around her.

_Awakes my heart to heart's and eye's delight._


	2. Sonnets 75 & 18

**Author's Note: **This one is a bit different, Shalon is two ages in each section. In the first, where she calls him Kevin is when she's a little girl, most likely just after he arrived. In the second she's just turned twelve.

_**Sonnets 75 & 18**_

_So are you to my thoughts as food to life, _

_Or as sweet-season'd showers are to the ground;_

"Sonnet 75," He watched her as she whirled around in a circle, giggling, before he turned back to his book. She fell to the ground in a patch of flowers and he leapt to his feet, throwing his book to the side, sprinting over to her. "Lady Shalon!" He knelt down, his heart pounding.

"Kevin!" She beamed up at him. "Kevin what's wrong?" She caught her hand in his silver ponytail.

"Lady Shalon you shouldn't be lying around in the grass!" He picked her up as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

_And for the peace of you I hold such strife_

_As 'twixt a miser and his wealth is found;_

"I'm sorry," her legs dangled as he set her down, his sword banged against his leg as he knelt, dusting off her pinafore and apron. "Kevin, I love you." She grinned as a smile pulled at his lips.

"Lady Shalon? You shouldn't think like that." She patted his cheek.

"You smiled." She giggled. "I made Kevin smile!" She danced away, spiraling once more.

_Now proud as an enjoyer and anon _

_Doubting the filching age will steal his treasure,_

"You can always make me smile, Lady Shalon." He went back to the tree he had been sitting under and picked up his book, dusting it off as he sat down, propping the cover against his thigh.

_Now counting best to be with you alone, _

_Then better'd that the world may see my pleasure;_

He peered at her over the thick cotton pages as she giggled from within the flower patch. He lifted an eyebrow, curious as to what she was doing. She looked at him over her shoulder and grinned before going back to whatever it was she was doing.

"Milady, what is it that you--" he broke off as she ran over to him, tripping and nearly falling, causing him to jump forward. She recovered and continued running. "Lady Shalo--" she tripped over her pinafore and stumbled into his chest, laughing merrily.

"K-Kevin I made you something!" She exclaimed. "But you have to ask me nicely for it!" Shalon hid whatever it was behind her back.

"P-Please may I have it?" He blinked at her as she used one hand to right herself, pushing on his thigh.

"Kevin! I want you to be my knight!" She placed a ring of flowers in his hair, letting her little fingers slide along his ponytail lovingly. He stared at her wide-eyed.

_Sometime all full with feasting on your sight _

_And by and by clean starved for a look;_

"Me?" He caught her delicate hand in his.

"Your hand's shaking, Kevin." She giggled before he brushed his knuckles against the side of her face.

"Well it's a big task, Milady, to take care of a princess such as you." His eyes softened as he rubbed a piece of dirt from her jaw. "You're getting very dirty, Milady, perhaps it's time to go inside?"

"You go inside." She giggled, scrambling away.

_Possessing or pursuing no delight, _

_Save what is had or must from you be took._

"Milady!" He caught her about the waist and lifted her off the ground.

"Kevin!" She squealed as he chuckled, carrying her back towards the manor. "Kevin put me down!"

"If a knight's duty is to protect his princess then nothing is safe, not even the dirt you wear on your apron!" He adjusted her as she wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder. "Besides, you've worn yourself out." He pressed his cheek against her hair as her little lips brushed his neck.

_Thus do I pine and surfeit day by day, _

_Or gluttoning on all, or all away._

He looked up as his bedroom door opened. The pitter-patter of young feet crunched on the plush carpet. "Good evening, Lady Shalon," he smiled softly as she clambered into his bed. "Is everything alri--" he closed his book as he heard her sniff. "Milady?" He blinked as she buried her face in his chest. He glanced at his book out of the corner of his eye, to remember what page he was on. _Sonnet 18_.

"K-Kevin," she choked out.

"Xerxes now, Milady, remember?" He stroked her hair as he set his book down.

_Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? _

_Thou art more lovely and more temperate:_

"X-Xerx-nii." She opened her mouth to speak, and instead a rather large sob took over and she pressed her face against his side, bawling, his head dropped out his chest.

"What's wrong, Lady Shalon?" He tucked his hand against her legs, pulling her closer.

"M-Mom won't let me go to the sea shore!" She looked up at him, teary eyed.

"I-Is that what you're crying about?" He blinked, then laughed. "I'm so relieved."

"Don't laugh!" She smacked his chest. "She won't let me go!"

"Why not?" He fought back a chuckle.

"I don't know…" she wiped her eyes. "But I really want to go! All the other children have been!"

_Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,_

_And summer's lease hath all too short a date_:

He wasn't entirely sure how he had been talked into this… how could he let a child, barely 12, talk him into taking her to the sea shore? He sighed as he watched her pick up seashells and examine them, putting them in the little bucket she had brought with her.

"Xerx-nii!" She called to him. "Look!" He slunk over, feeling rather odd being at the beach with his mistress. "Look at this one!" She held it up for him to see.

"That is pretty," he let her set it in his hand and he poked it over. It was sleek and pink with white swirls, something that Lady Shalon would enjoy of course. He looked over at her for a moment as she continued searching. Her pretty white dress was simple and rather wonderful, her hair was pulled back in a long braid down her back. She let out a scream of delight as the water rushed over her feet.

_Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, _

_And often is his gold complexion dimm'd_;

He shielded his eyes from the blazing sun overhead as he set up the large umbrella they had brought with them, smoothing out the pretty blanket to sit on and unpacking the lunch the kitchen had prepared for them. "Lady Shalon! Lunchtime!" He smiled as she ran up, breathless.

_And every fair from fair sometime declines, _

_By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;_

"Thank you, Xerxes." She smiled at him as she helped herself to the sandwiches and lemonade. "Do you think mother will be alright?" She looked down at her sandwich and he paused, in the middle of bringing a glass to his lips to drink.

"I do hope so," he sighed, setting his glass down. She smiled.

"I do too!" She grinned and he bumped her forehead with his knuckles. "What was that for?"

"For being cute," he chuckled. "Thank you for inviting me here with you, Lady Shalon."

"I wouldn't want anyone else to come with me," her eyes swam with an emotion he didn't recognize. "I love you Xerxes!" She beamed.

_But thy eternal summer shall not fade _

_Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest_;

"Yes, I know," he smiled in return, offering her the plate of cookies the cooks had packed. "I wish you would stop saying that."

"But I love you, why should I stop saying it?" She laughed, helping herself. "You're silly."

"You're the silly one, Milady," he watched her as he ate one of the cookies, she had grown into quite the beautiful young woman. She was beginning to look like a woman, most certainly. Her long legs, elegantly folded to the side, were toned and shapely. Her body had lengthened and her baby fat was nearly gone, or had migrated, he thought wryly. Men were going to start courting her soon. His eye darkened.

_Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,_

_When in eternal lines to time thou growest:_

"What are you thinking about?" She tilted her head as he stared at her.

"Me? Why you of course, what else do I have to think about?" He chuckled darkly. "What are _you_ thinking about?"

"You, but most likely in an entirely different way than you're thinking about me," she returned his dark chuckle and he choked on his lemonade. Her laughter rang in his ears.

_So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, _

_So long lives this and this gives life to thee._


	3. Sonnets 1 & 154

_**Sonnet 1 & 154**_

She opened her eyes to the soft beam of light escaping through the curtains of her room. The bar of shining evil was centered on her left eye and she hid her face in the chest before her.

"_From fairest creatures we desire increase, That thereby beauty's rose might never die_," A broad hand slid down her shoulder over her side, gliding down the slope of her waist and up the gentle curve of her hip. She closed her eyes as goose bumps rose on her skin. "_But as the riper should by time decease, His tender heir might bear his memory:_" his voice sent her heart pounding.

"Shakespeare's First Sonnet," she whispered as his lips met her neck.

"I thought it appropriate," he replied, letting his mouth roam over her jaw. "_But thou, contracted to thine own bright eyes, Feed'st thy light'st flame with self-substantial fuel," _he purred as she slid her arms around his neck, toying with the little piece of hair on the nape of his neck.

"Xerxes," he caught her mouth with his, silencing her. "_Making a famine where abundance lies, Thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel_." Her breath caught in her throat as he slid a teasing finger down her spine, nudging her closer to him.

"_Thou that art now the world's fresh ornament and only herald to the gaudy spring_," he nibbled her ear playfully.

"Shakespeare this early in the morning is a terrible thing," she caught his kiss this time, bracing her hands against his face as he tried to deepen it.

"Because he's as potent as Lord Byron?" He stroked the side of her face with his knuckles. "Are you going to finish it or shall I?"

"_Within thine own bud buriest thy content and, tender churl, makest waste in niggarding_." She touched their noses together. "_Pity the world, or else this glutton be, to eat the world's due, by the grave and thee." _Shewhispered as he captured her lips with his.

_The little Love-god lying once asleep_

_Laid by his side his heart-inflaming brand,_

Sonnet 154, he thought to himself as he pulled up the covers over her shoulder as she slept soundly. He tucked her in lovingly as she stirred in her sleep, snuggling into the warm spot he had left. He smiled, stroking her hair back from her face as he fastened his jacket around his neck.

_Whilst many nymphs that vow'd chaste life to keep_

_Came tripping by; but in her maiden hand_

_The fairest votary took up that fire_

"Why are you leaving?" She asked groggily.

"Leaving, milady?" He looked over at her as he carried his shoes to the door.

"Yes, you're leaving, I'm not stupid, Break." She sat up and he watched her, pursing his lips as she watched him in return.

_Which many legions of true hearts had warm'd;_

_And so the general of hot desire_

_Was sleeping by a virgin hand disarm'd._

"Well I figured that you were tired, after all, you were sleeping until a moment ago." He responded.

"Xerxes, I love you." She whispered and he nodded his head.

"I know, milady, you remind me often of the love I don't deserve." He lowered his head.

"Why can't you love me?" She asked softly, her nightdress was rumpled from sleep, and from snuggling.

"Because that would be improper, milady, you're going to be married at some point, I shan't ruin you for your husband." His eye darkened.

"But, Xerxes," there was a touch of pleading in her voice.

_This brand she quenched in a cool well by,_

_Which from Love's fire took heat perpetual,_

He shook his head. "We're not going to talk about this, the matter is settled."

"Making love to me wouldn't be so bad… would it?" His fingers itched to touch her, he knew all too well, why else didn't he refuse her advances… why else didn't he stop himself from letting his hands roam?

"Milady, you shouldn't speak like that," he could feel the testosterone in his bloodstream though, the blood pounding through his heart as she watched him with those seductress eyes.

_Growing a bath and healthful remedy_

_For men diseased; but I, my mistress' thrall,_

"I want to, I want you." She replied, her voice low.

"Lady Shalon, you don't _know_ what _want_ is," _he_ did though, he knew because it was the feeling running through his veins at the very moment… the need to grant her wish, to take her for his own. "I will see you at breakfast, milady." He bowed low and turned from the room, shutting the door behind him and leaning against his heavily as he heard her break down. He closed his eye tightly.

_Came there for cure, and this by that I prove,_

_Love's fire heats water, water cools not love._


	4. Sonnets 36 & 24

**Sonnets 36 & 24**

_Let me confess that we two must be twain, _

_Although our undivided loves are one:_

She whipped her head back, long blonde strands clinging to her sweat soaked shoulders, the pale white skin of her hips, slick and shiny, blanched under his grip as she stilled, heart pounding, lavender eyes milky. Her delicate hands, powerful in their adrenaline heightened state, gripped his wrists. Lips half parted, eyes half lidded, she was a vision cloaked in the moon's midnight majesty.

_So shall those blots that do with me remain_

_Without thy help by me be borne alone._

She was powerful, in control, and he wanted her that way. He never wanted this to be about him. He caught himself bruising her hips, his grip viselike. Her body moved again, shifting in a glorious, almost serpentine way. He closed his eye, basking in the glory of her body, before he couldn't take it anymore. He caught her in his arms and pinned her down, tangling his hands deep in her hair as he captured her mouth with his.

_In our two loves there is but one respect, _

_Though in our lives a separable spite,_

Her body shone like plated creamy silver in the pale white moonlight. His scarlet eye watched her. He watched the gentle movement of her chest as she lay sprawled on the bed, watched the way her lips parted when she turned her head to look at him, only to look back at the hangings of her bed, mesmerized by the shadows. Tangled together with him in a twisted lover's knot was the only place he ever wanted her, his lips brushed her jaw and she turned her head, succumbing to his kiss once again as she worked her hands into his silvery-white hair. "Xerxes…" she breathed as his lips met her neck, caressing her shoulder, basking in the after-sex glow.

_Which though it alter not love's sole effect,_

_Yet doth it steal sweet hours from love's delight._

"I'm starting to wonder if my name is the only thing you can say." He said darkly as she curled to him, letting her fingers glide over his back and sides with exploratory curiosity.

"You're a fool." She responded and he chuckled, capturing her head in his hands and forcing her to look up at him.

"That's still my name, you're not doing very well, milady." He conquered her once more, kissing her with such force it left her breathless, though she had the belief that just about anything he did would take her breath away.

_I may not evermore acknowledge thee, _

_Lest my bewailed guilt should do thee shame,_

She let her hands slide along his chest, lingering for a moment on the intricate seal as her body melted, happily giving itself to him. "Thank you." She whispered as he brushed his knuckles against her cheekbone lovingly, looking down at her.

"Thank me? What are you thanking me for?" He seemed surprised. "You should be running from me… I'm a murderer, remember?"

"I thought you didn't associate Xerxes Break with Kevid Regnard." She gasped when he clasped his hand over her mouth.

_Nor thou with public kindness honour me, _

_Unless thou take that honour from thy name:_

"How many times… do I have to tell you… not to say that name?" His voice darkened, face contorting. Her heart raced. Strange… that this side of him excited her so.

She tilted her chin up slightly, afraid to speak, though she had the feeling that even if she wanted to speak at this moment it would only come out in gibberish. He lifted his hand from her face and her lips parted to speak… instead his mouth arrested hers, ceasing any idea of speaking she had as he kissed her with such ferocity she thought the pressure in her chest would explode.

This time. He took her. He wasn't going to wait any longer. This time. He made love to her, and made her body sing. This time. The only thing that exited her mouth was a haunting scream of pleasure beyond the threshold of pain as her knuckles blanched, gripping the headboard so hard her nails grooved the wood. This time. He claimed her as his… if only for this moment.

_But do not so; I love thee in such sort _

_As, thou being mine, mine is thy good report._

She watched him over her teacup, smiling softly as he glanced over from making fun of Gil. His eye softened as she looked away almost flirtatiously, looking down at the book in her lap before looking up at him again.

"Which one are you on?" He asked softly, recognizing the book in her lap.

"Sonnet 24. It's sweet." She smoothed her hand against the pages.

"Whatcha reading?" Alice asked in her usual, rather bossy, manner. Shalon looked over at her.

"It's a book of sonnets." She looked over at Break. "A book of sonnets someone very dear to me gave me."

_Mine eye hath play'd the painter and hath stell'd _

_Thy beauty's form in table of my heart;_

"Oh? What's a sonnet?" Alice scooted a little closer and Shalon laughed.

"It's a love poem." She said softly.

_My body is the frame wherein 'tis held, _

_And perspective it is the painter's art._

"So who gave it to you?" Alice scuttled a little closer, Oz turned his head to watch as Shalon flushed slightly.

"My, my, you are nosy today Miss Alice…" Shalon chuckled. Break's gaze didn't budge from her face… he didn't know why he never could take his eyes off her. "Someone I love gave it to me."

_For through the painter must you see his skill,_

_To find where your true image pictured lies;_

"Who do you love?" The dark haired girl pressed on, ignorant to the subtleties of Shalon's words.

"I love a lot of people Alice… like you and Oz and Gil." She smiled.

"What about the stupid Pierrot?" Alice lifted her eyebrows, Break's heart stopped.

_Which in my bosom's shop is hanging still, _

_That hath his windows glazed with thine eyes._

"Yes, him most especially." Shalon nodded setting her teacup down. "After all… he's my knight." His lips parted in surprise how coolly she was handling all this.

"So you love me? Would you give me that book?" Alice tilted her head, Shalon's grip tightened on the cover.

_Now see what good turns eyes for eyes have done:_

_Mine eyes have drawn thy shape, and thine for me_

"Someday Alice… someone else will give you something that will be just as near and dear to you as this book is to me." She caressed the page and his eye shuttered closed a moment, his heart pounding as the vision of her body entered his mind.

"Do you really think that?" Alice's eyes shone, she wasn't sure why she was so excited about it.

"Yes… I do Alice." Shalon nodded.

_Are windows to my breast, where-through the sun _

_Delights to peep, to gaze therein on thee;_

He caught her hand as she walked through the gardens, pulling her into his arms as she laughed. "You really are marvelous!" She kissed him as he spoke. "You have become such a calm and controlled young woman."

"Thank you," she smiled, catching his face in her hand tenderly as he bent his head down to kiss her, the book falling from her hand to the grass as she lifted her other hand to his neck.

Alice's heart tightened as she watched them. She didn't know… why her chest hurt… she touched a hand to it... Why did Oz's face come to mind, was this what Oz wanted? Maybe... if she knew what love was... Her eyes fell on the book that had dropped on the ground. She picked it up curiously and examined it. Shalon wouldn't mind if she borrowed it. The little brunette walked off towards the manor.

_Yet eyes this cunning want to grace their art;_

_They draw but what they see, know not the heart._

_**Okay… so… I have an idea but I'm not entirely sure about it. I've been considering continuing the sonnets with the other characters as well. What do you guys think? I've been setting it up this whole time so it will go either way, because, if you can't tell, whatever character has the book is the character whose perspective it is written in. If you guy don't like it… then that's fine I really like Shalon and Break lol but I thought I'd change it up if you want… YOUR OPINIONS!**_

_**Shalan**_


	5. Sonnets 4 & 54

Author's Note: Today is my birthday, because I am in a good mood I shall gift you a new chapter… ON MY BIRTHDAY! You guys had better give me plenty of reviews for my birthday! Lovelove

**Sonnets 4 & 54**

**Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend **

**Upon thyself thy beauty's legacy?**

She examined herself in the mirror, looking at the high collar, thick shawl and long sleeves. She shifted her weight, the length of skirt that hung past her ankle rustled against her feet. She stared at herself, lifting her chin haughtily. Why did she feel so restrained all of a sudden? Why was it that she didn't want to be confined to her usual garb this day? She lifted her hands, unfastening her shawl.

**Nature's bequest gives nothing but doth lend,**

**And being frank she lends to those are free.**

She unpinned her collar, unfastening her dress until she let it fall around her waist, sliding her hands over her smooth, bare shoulders, following the paths his hands and followed before. She stepped from her dress, slowly reaching back and unfastening her petticoats, letting them fall to the ground. She wanted it all off, her heart raced in her chest.

**Then, beauteous niggard, why dost thou abuse **

**The bounteous largess given thee to give?**

Her breath caught in her throat as she stepped out of her shoes, lifting her hands to her corset, slowly beginning to unclasp the rigid piece of material. She heard a door close behind her and with half lidded eyes looked over her shoulder as he walked up behind her, she heard his words, but didn't understand them, as his fingers finished her job, letting her corset fall to the floor with her other clothes.

**Profitless usurer, why dost thou use **

**So great a sum of sums, yet canst not live?**

His lips met her neck as she pulled her camisole down, letting the sheer silk fall to the floor around her ankles. His gloved hands slid against her hips, up her abdomen to cradle her breasts. She flushed, the new sensation of the soft cotton against her bare skin sent goose bumps up her body.

**For having traffic with thyself alone, **

**Thou of thyself thy sweet self dost deceive.**

"Selfish of you, milady, to undress without telling me…" She leaned against him as his hand caught her knee, sliding up the inside of her thigh. She rested her head on his shoulder.

"I wasn't aware I needed to inform you of my every action." He caught her mouth with his as she turned her head, her fingers pulling his gloves off his hands and letting them fall to the ground.

**Then how, when nature calls thee to be gone,**

**What acceptable audit canst thou leave?**

"I should be informed when what belongs to me is on display." His voice darkened as she unfastened his jacket, sliding it down his shoulders and off his arms when he released her. She turned to face him, unbuttoning his shirt as he leaned his head down, pressing his face against her neck. "You're lucky it was me that walked in, you know if someone else would have they'd tell your grandmother you were performing lewd acts in front of a mirror." He nipped her skin, eliciting a gasp as they tumbled to the floor.

**Thy unused beauty must be tomb'd with thee,**

**Which, used, lives th' executor to be.**

She sighed heavily, lying in the sweet spring grass, watching the stars overhead. A servant had told her earlier that day that if one picked a star, and watched it, one could see the world turn. Being the fanciful sixteen year-old she was, she decided to try it. She had been watching the world turn for some time, watching the stars move across the night sky, a heavy leather book resting beneath her head.

"O, how much more doth beauty beauteous seem/By that sweet ornament which truth doth give." She whispered. "The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem/For that sweet odour which doth in it live."

"You know it isn't healthy for a young woman to be out lying in wet grass in naught but her house robe." She looked up as someone stood over her. "Milady, how many times have I told you not to sneak out into the gardens at night?" His voice was playful, teasing, her eyes focused on his lips.

"I know very well, Xerxes Break." She responded primly, her dark blonde hair spilled in gentle curls across the grass beneath her head.

**The canker-blooms have full as deep a dye**

**As the perfumed tincture of the roses,**

"Oh really?" He sat down next to her. "Just out of curiosity, what is it that you're doing out here in the middle of the night anyways?"

"I couldn't sleep." She smiled over at him. "So I thought I'd come out and watch the stars." He flattened himself down on the ground next to her.

"You are a very curious young woman, you know that?" He turned his head to look at her, as she looked up at the stars. He watched the way her eyelashes lighted on her cheekbones, the delicate line of her lips, the way her lips parted when she took a breath.

**Hang on such thorns and play as wantonly **

**When summer's breath their masked buds discloses:**

"I do know that, my grandmother often reminds me of this…" she laughed. "Did you know that you can see the world turn if you watch the stars?"

"I didn't." He lied, he just enjoyed the sound of her voice.

"Well if you pick a star up there and keep watching it then you can watch the world turn." She smiled over at him.

"May I watch the world turn with you, milady?" His question had a deeper meaning, a deeper sense to it, and for a moment she paused, looking over at him.

**But, for their virtue only is their show, **

**They live unwoo'd and unrespected fade**,

"Yes, yes of course, how could I say no to you?" She smiled sweetly. "I love you, Xerxes." This time the words had a different impact on him.

"You keep saying that, but I don't deserve your love, Lady Shalon." He looked down as she slid her delicate hand into his.

"Who I love has nothing to do with deserving… when I decided to give you my heart I gave you my heart, simple as that." His hand clasped around hers as she laced her fingers through his.

**Die to themselves. Sweet roses do not so; **

**Of their sweet deaths are sweetest odours made:**

"I'm sure you can't be serious, you don't know what love is." He chuckled.

"Oh…?" She sounded offended. "Just because I'm young doesn't mean that I'm stupid, Xerxes Break." She sat up and leaned over him, hands on either side of his head. A smirk pulled at his lips before she leaned down and kissed him, just once, a quick little peck, but it still made his heart jump.

**And so of you, beauteous and lovely youth,**

**When that shall fade, my verse distills your truth.**


	6. Sonnet 2

Author's Note: I KNOW I've been gone for so long! But I'm back with a greater and more tender chapter :) just so you know, and aren't completely broadsided, this one switches back and forth from present to past to future. Each section is from a different time, so nothing is fluid in this one.

**Sonnet 2**

When forty winters shall besiege thy brow,

And dig deep trenches in thy beauty's field,

He sighed heavily as she rested her small head on his stomach, watching the stars above them. She stretched luxuriously, letting out a little sigh.

"Is something wrong, my lady?" He lifted his head. He pulled one of his arms from beneath his head and reached down to prod her side gently, listening to her giggle.

"Nothing's wrong, don't worry about me Kevin." She smiled over at him.

"I always worry about you, my lady." He looked a little surprised when her small fingers wrapped around his hand and pulled his arm over her. She snuggled up next to him, resting her head in the crook of his shoulder. He chuckled. "Making yourself comfortable?"

Thy youth's proud livery, so gazed on now,

Will be a tatter'd weed, of small worth held:

"I am in fact." She pressed her face into his neck. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, turning to hold her against his chest. She closed her eyes tightly as he let out a heavy sigh. "You know when I was a little girl, I used to come in and snuggle with you in your room."

"I was thinking about that too." He smiled softly. "You were so tiny." Their lips met tenderly as his hands coasted over her waist.

Then being ask'd where all thy beauty lies,

Where all the treasure of thy lusty days,

"I don't like thunderstorms." Her little voice said from the edge of the bed. He had watched the door open and close, heard the little pattering of feet across the floor, and chuckled when she spoke.

"I know you don't my lady, I don't know why you don't just stay in here when you know it's going to storm." He lifted the blankets so she could snuggle up with him.

"Because I… I want you to be proud of me. Because I love you." She giggled.

"I'm… I'm very proud of you… I'll always be proud of you milady." He stroked her hair gently, then frowned as she trembled when the thunder roared overhead. "The thunder won't hurt you, I'm here, and I will always protect you from anything."

To say, within thine own deep-sunken eyes,

Were an all-eating shame and thriftless praise.

His hands smoothed the silk of her nightgown down over the swell of her belly, he laid a path of cool wet kisses over her shoulders. He closed his eye, sliding the silk up over her thighs and tugging it over the round of her navel. She shifted her body until she was lying on her back and sighed as he flattened both of his palms against the stretched skin, sitting up on the bed.

"Hello little baby…" he purred, kissing her skin. "Hello~" He let his hands glide over the swell. "Can you hear me?"

"I'm sure he can." She laughed, watching his face light up as he felt the baby run its little fingers against its mother's womb. "He'll know your voice before he's even born."

"If only… he didn't have to know me like this." He pressed his lips to her stomach. "When you and I know…"

"You always have to ruin it, don't you?" She dropped her head back on the pillow. "I go through all this, get put on bed rest, pampered, tenderized… and you have to go and mention…"

"Don't be mad at me. I'm just worried about you."

How much more praise deserved thy beauty's use,

If thou couldst answer 'This fair child of mine

He felt like his life was flashing before his eyes. "Oh my god Shalon."

"Grandmother knows." She looked off to the side. "She knew as soon as she saw me the last time." What had he done? He couldn't have… but that would have meant…

"The first time." His voice broke.

"The first time you made love to me… is the night it happened." She nodded. He buried his face in her neck, his hand gripping her hip to hold her against him.

He was having a baby.

Something he created.

He smiled, thinking of all the things they could do.

Shall sum my count and make my old excuse,'

Proving his beauty by succession thine!

He had stood by her, holding her hand in his. He had hated every minute of it, perhaps more than even she had hated it. He had hated kneeling next to her, one hand tangled in hers, the other feverishly stroking her sweat soaked hair back from her face. He had hated the idea of the pain, the terrible pain he was putting her through… and yet all he could do was talk to her, tell her that everything would be alright, that he loved her, and that he was right beside her… and that he was sorry… but every time, she shook her head… she shook her head and replied that she had wanted it…

Now… maybe he couldn't see her, maybe he couldn't see what had happened… but he heard her gentle breathing, he heard her sound asleep… and felt the movement of the tiny creature in his arms. She was asleep with her head in his lap. He pulled the soft blanket back from its face as he settled in his sleep… and let his finger trace the child's cheek. It was so soft, like its mother.

"Hey there…" he choked on the knot in his throat. He had never thought that he would hold this tiny thing in his arms, had never believed that he would be alive… A single tear dripped down his cheek, the knot becoming painful. He opened the blanket the baby was wrapped in, cradling it in one arm. He rested his palm against the chubby full belly of the baby boy. "Your mother made sure you were well fed, huh?" He leaned down and kissed the stomach of his child, feeling the baby's toes and soft fat feet, before bundling him back up again. "I love you, so much…" he choked once more, tears finally winning as he curled up with the little creature in his arms.

This were to be new made when thou art old,

And see thy blood warm when thou feel'st it cold.

Then sadness took over.

He would most likely never see the birth of his own child.

He would never see their smile, hear their laugh… he would leave it and its mother behind, alone, with no one to care for them.

She would be unmarriageable with an illegitimate child.

The negatives outweighed the positives.

He could feel devastation take its toll on his heart as he stroked her hair… apparently she was thinking the same thing he was, because her body shook as she let out a sob, wrapping her arms around his neck as she began to cry, holding him to her.

He thought he had nothing to live for after the end of this.

He was trying to leave nothing behind so he had no regrets.

Now he had something to live for… but no time to live for it.

All he could do, to ease her pain, was to hold her in his arms, to stroke her hair, her back, kiss her face and hope to whatever was out there that he would have more time with her.

That he would have more time with her.


	7. Sonnets 127 & 142

Author's Note: Wow… it's been a really long time since I wrote ANYTHING. Finally I've got some free time, and some muse. Here's what's been waiting in the wings for you.

* * *

**Sonnet 127**

In the old age black was not counted fair,

Or if it were, it bore not beauty's name;

His eye was soft as he watched her standing in the rain. "Milady." He spoke finally, once he thought she's soaked long enough. "I think it's time you come inside."

"Just a while longer, Break." She replied softly. "Please?" She turned to face him. "In fact, why don't you come dance with me?" She offered her hand.

"I can't dance, you know that." He replied softly. The desire for her only grew, watching the rain plaster her hair and dress to her young body. He knew he shouldn't feel this way, not for the 20 year old heir of the house he served… but he couldn't help it.

But now is black beauty's successive heir,

And beauty slandered with a bastard shame:

He searched the corners of the manor for her, the mistress that eluded his sight for the moment. "Lady Shalon?" He asked as he opened her door. 'Where could she have gone?' He heard the sound of a soft sob and walked closer to the wardrobe. "Milady?" He knelt down, opening the doors. "Milady what's wrong?" He hated it when she cried.

Her soft, young face was red and wet with tears. What she called "the ugly cry", though he didn't think there was a thing that could make her ugly. "I didn't want you to see." She trembled, burying her face back in the fabric of her nightgown covering her knees.

"Why not?" He took her hand.

"One of those visiting girls…" She hiccupped. "One of them called me ugly."

He sighed heavily. And this was the issue with raising a girl. He took her small hand in his and placed it against the side of his face. "My Lady Shalon. You are far from ugly. You are beautiful, and I will always think that." He murmured to the 12 year old, not knowing that in a short year she would be chained to this form forever. "But you are going to become even more beautiful. The face of youth will fall from you and you will become a handsome woman, with many suitors. Ignore the jealousies of lesser peoples. Because I only speak the truth."

For since each hand hath put on Nature's power,

Fairing the foul with Art's false borrowed face,

He looked down at her as he rose over her, her long soft hair tossed over the pillows, her pearl white skin exposed to him. He lowered his head and let his lips coast over the hollow of her throat, listening to the soft sigh of her voice. "Shalon." He said softly, letting his hot breath wash over her chest. It was dark, this desire he held for her. Despite how young her body may be there was a woman's brain in her head, a woman's needs in her body… needs that only he could provide for.

"Yes, Xerxes?" She murmured, lavender eyes trusting.

"You are the most beautiful creature I have ever set eyes upon." He told her.

Sweet beauty hath no name, no holy bower,

But is profaned, if not lives in disgrace.

She pulled his jacket around her shoulders, stroking his hair gently as he read to her. "Milady I'm not sure that this is a sonnet meant for your ears."

"Why, because it involves mistresses?" She asked. So young, but so forward. He wondered if she'd stay that way.

"Indeed that was my concern." He replied as she touched the side of his face with her hand.

"This is a sonnet about beauty." She replied. "And beauty is in the eye of the beholder. For instance, I believe that your red eye is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

He was taken aback.

Therefore my mistress' eyes are raven black,

Her eyes so suited, and they mourners seem

"Most people would think you silly." He replied gently. "I am an ugly, scarred man. But I fit well as a protector for my little lady."

At such who, not born fair, no beauty lack,

Sland'ring creation with a false esteem:

"Anyone who would so foolishly call you ugly should be beheaded." She touched the closed lid of his empty socket. "Even the darkness within this eye is beautiful. Like the fathomless depths of the Abyss." She watched his red eye soften.

"You speak such wisdom, my little lady." He said. "Let us hope you never witness the Abyss."

Yet so they mourn becoming of their woe,

That every tongue says beauty should look so.

**Sonnet 142**

Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate,

Hate of my sin, grounded on sinful loving:

She laughed as he stumbled again. "Come now Break! Keep up!" She led them into a turn. Her long hair was pulled back in a braid as she took him through the steps of the dance she was trying to teach him.

"Ouch! I'm sorry!" He said, nearly treading on her foot.

"You're thinking too hard about it! And why did you say ouch you outlandish man?" She laughed. "Now twirl me!" She laughed again as he did. If that was the one thing he could hear for the rest of his life he could die a happy man.

"I'm terrible, how about we quit for tonight?" He suggested hopefully as his 20 year old mistress walked over to set the record back again.

"Once more! You've almost got it!"

O! but with mine compare thou thine own state,

And thou shalt find it merits not reproving;

She sighed. "Xerxes Break!" She stomped after him as he scuttled away. "Break!" She looked around for him. "Come back here!"

"I'm not sure I deserve whatever you're about to deal me!" He replied, trying to burrow into the corner of the kitchens.

"You do! You lied to me!" She replied angrily. "Stop hiding coward! You're a knight! Come face your lady!"

"If my lady is a dragon then I am no knight!" He replied, sidling up the stairs behind her.

"Break!" She saw him out of the corner of her eyes. "You ruined my favorite dress!" She said angrily and followed him.

"Geez!" He took off running and hid around a corner. "Treacherous girl you are." He caught her in his arms as she ran past, not seeing which turn he'd taken.

"Break don't you—" But her words were muffled against his lips. "Mmmph!" She tried again but he kissed her harder. Before long her anger had melted, there was nothing like his kiss.

Or, if it do, not from those lips of thine,

That have profaned their scarlet ornaments

He traced the petals of the rose against her lips and she giggled lightly. "Don't laugh you'll ruin it." He told her.

"I can't help myself. It tickles!" She smiled. He watched those lips that were so capable of ripping him to shreds quiver as he touched the rose petals to her throat, letting the red shine against her silvery skin. He kissed her lips delicately and she strained for more as he drew away. "I tire of this game." She said weakly, wishing she could see behind the black silk blindfold he had tied around her eyes.

"No you don't." He chuckled, letting the rose petals brush a breast before lowering his head to let his mouth follow the same path, his lips teasing the coral peak there for a moment. She moaned lightly, chest pressing up for more.

"Why?" She whined as he drew away.

"That's not the point." He replied, planting kisses against her ribcage.

"What's the point?" She asked, trembling as the rose grazed her thighs.

"The point is to feel." His voice said soothingly.

And sealed false bonds of love as oft as mine,

Robbed others' beds' revenues of their rents.

She fanned herself excitedly as she sat down next to him. It was so rare that she was able to go to events like this, so he didn't mind. He leaned on the table, watching her laugh. "Oh my gosh Break that was so much fun." She looked over at him.

"Yes, I'm sure. You have quite a few admirers." He said, bemused.

"Of course… but none of them are as loyal as you are." She flirted lightly.

"I am your servant." He replied. "I am not a suitor."

"But you admire me, do you not?" She asked. "If so then let us dance." She stood up.

"Milady I…" He didn't have time to protest as she took his hand. "I don't know how to dance!"

"Yes you do! I taught you!" She pulled him out onto the dance floor. "Now put your hand on my waist." She guided his hand to her waist. "And follow my lead."

Be it lawful I love thee, as thou lov'st those

Whom thine eyes woo as mine importune thee:

He felt good, being the one that for once people where envious of. He was dancing with one of the prettiest girls at the ball, and he knew it. His 16 year old mistress was bright and cheerful as she guided him through the steps. "Now you lift me~" She said and he caught her waist, lifting her as they turned in a circle.

"Milady I don't think I should—" he didn't get to finish yet again, which he found was often the case with her, as she rested her head against his chest. The music slowed and he desperately wished that she would let him go… but at the same time… "Just this once, my lady."

Root pity in thy heart, that, when it grows,

Thy pity may deserve to pitied be.

She gasped lightly as his lips finally met her thighs, following the path of the petals. "Xerxes." She said his name as his velvet tongue slid against the tender skin of her inner thigh. He had been right. He always was. Waiting for this moment was wonderful… "Perhaps you were…"

"Correct?" He finished her sentence. "I had hoped that you would think that." He let the rose brush between her legs as he took her lips, kissing her deeply this time. Whatever it was that was happening between them, he wasn't going to let it go. Even if it didn't last.

If thou dost seek to have what thou dost hide,

By self-example mayst thou be denied!

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Read and Review! That button's getting lonely!


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